


Out From The Dark

by QueenOfNewOrleans22



Category: Lords of Chaos (2018), Mayhem (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Fluff, Graphic Description, M/M, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:07:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28921818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22
Summary: Per attempts suicide, and Øystein comes home just in time.
Relationships: Euronymous | Øystein Aarseth/Dead | Per Yngve Ohlin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

Øystein had went to go take a drive to cool off, to allow his heart rate to come back down to a normal level, and for him to calm down enough to trust himself not to blow up at the one person who never seemed to judge him. 

Reasonably, Øystein knew that leaving after an argument was just about the worst thing he could do. Tempers always ran high, and Per wasn't a reasonable person in any sense of the word, especially when he was upset, but Øystein don't have any other way to get some alone time, and he'd been desperate, so he'd grabbed the car keys and stormed out of the house, forgetting to put his coat on in his haste. 

It had been raining quite hard, but now, it'd stopped, and only the grey clouds remained, pushed together in the dull sky. Øystein had driven around aimlessly, had visited his parents because they needed food and his mother had agreed to cook up a few casseroles, and then had pulled up to the cabin and just sat there. 

When they argued, Øystein favored yelling until his throat was raw and his voice was hoarse, and Per usually just stared, empty and cold. Occasionally, Øystein would rile him up enough that Per would yell back, and their personalities would clash like fire and ice. Truth be told, Øystein didn't even know what they'd been arguing about, but he did know that it'd been stupid and worthless. He rested his elbow on the steering wheel and bit the edge of his thumbnail, debating about whether or not to just go and stay at his parents' house. 

But just as suddenly as that thought appeared, it was rejected and pushed away because Øystein knew that just disappearing wouldn't go down well. His eyes traveled toward the woods, and he wondered if Per had went to go and do whatever he did in that godforsaken place. Maybe, Øystein figured, that was for the best. 

Øystein stepped out of the car, shivering in the cold air, casseroles stacked up in his hands. He clenched his teeth so they didn't chatter and closed the car door with his hip, trudging through the thick, chunky mud to get back to the cabin. A small feeling of unease creeped up Øystein's spine, but he dismissed it as nothing, unwilling to think of what Per might've done. 

' _You should've stayed.'_ Øystein thought as he climbed up the stairs and approached the door. He should've bit his tongue, headed upstairs and locked himself in his room, but that just wasn't his personality. Øystein sighed and balanced the casseroles on his arm, reaching out with his free hand to open the door, but the knob didn't move. 

Pausing, Øystein stared down at the knob for a moment, and then he tried again, hoping that the frost from the latest snow had just frozen the locks or something, but the knob only budged a few inches to each side and then stopped. It was locked, Øystein knew, and he scowled. 

It was freezing, and probably about to rain again, and Øystein was locked outside with food and without a coat. He kicked the door with the tip of his boot. "Per, you asshole, open the door!" He yelled, but the yelling was ignored, just as it'd been just an hour or so ago. 

"Per! For fuck's sake, you better be in the woods." Øystein shook his head and walkes back down the stairs. He hadn't brought the house keys with him, but as he set the casseroles back inside the car and then set back out, he had another plan up his sleeve. 

Just last week, Jan had been working on the roof, and he hadn't returned the ladder back to his friend that'd leant it, yet. Instead, Jan had set it against the cabin on the side, and although Øystein had cursed the drummer for that, he was now grateful for it. 

Øystein grabbed the ladder and somehow managed to drag it to Per's side of the cabin. He knew that Per had a bad habit of leaving his window open and he could see it swaying in the wind. "Goddamn you, Per." Øystein grunted as he tested the rungs and then started to climb. "Fucking damn you." He muttered, pulling himself up further and further. 

Although it took less than five minutes, Øystein felt like he'd just climbed a summit when he finally reached the window. It was a tight fit, but he managed to slip in, nonetheless, although he tripped when he inched through the window. He grunted as his pant leg got caught on a stray nail that was sticking out from the sill, and he yanked it hard enough to send the nail skittering across the wooden floors and hit the wall. 

A sharp, rather metallic smell caught Øystein's attention, and as he straightened up and looked around the dark room, he frowned and felt his heart begin to beat faster. He didn't dare think about what that smell meant, but he had to, because then his eyes adjusted to the darkness and Øystein's heart caught in his throat. 

Time seems to slow down, and Øystein was reminded of being in a movie as he stared at the sight that welcomed him home, not with warm arms, but with sharp knives through his heart. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Øystein felt like he was going to be sick. 

There was blood all over the floor, in patterns and spirals, still wet. Pieces of paper were scattered all over the floor, and they were crumbles and streaked with the same red liquid. The blood lead from the doorway, to the bed, to the desk, where Per sat, one hand clutched to his throat as he clumsily wrote on a small piece of paper. 

The sight would've been amusing, if Øystein wasn't close to having a heart attack at that single moment. He reminded of their last show, when Per had dragged his knife down his arm, and the blood had spilled down like a torrential rainfall, and then Øystein was slammed back into the present. 

"Fuck, Pelle!" Øystein yelled, his voice sharp and like a knife, splitting the silence and tension in two. He ran across the room, nearly slipping in the blood when he accidentally stepped in a small puddle. Øystein crossed the room in a split second, falling to his knees like a man at prayer. 

Per didn't look up. He was covered in blood, most of which was coming from a jagged, gaping cut on his throat, which was steadily spilling blood. Øystein uttered a thin noise and grabbed his shoulders, but Per removed his hand from his throat to smack Øystein away. 

The blood, without even the slightest blockage, seemed to spill down like lava from the edges of a volcano. Øystein grabbed Per's hand and smacked it back down on the blonde's throat. "No, no, no! You asshole!" Øystein snarled, unsure of whether or not to be panicked or angry or scared and he ended up being all three.

Looking down, Øystein saw that there were two long cuts running along the length of Per's arms, across the old scars and fresh cuts. They were gaping, exposing pulsing muscles and piercing white bone. "Shit!" Øystein didn't know what to do, because there was so much blood and Per was too fucking calm considering what he'd done to himself. 

Øystein looked around frantically, but he saw nothing. He hurriedly pulled his shirt up and over his head and then wrapped it around Per's free arm, deciding that the one around his own throat could wait a few minutes. Per made a noise and he tried to turn away, back to his letter, like that was important in the first place. 

"Stay still." Øystein demanded. He could feel his heart doing hurdles against his ribcage and it made him want to throw up. "What the fuck, Pelle?" He hissed. 

Blood, there was so much blood. Øystein didn't know what he was supposed to do and he wondered when Jan would be home. His mind came up blank. "If you die on me, Pelle..." The threat went unfinished as Per's eyes glazed over and he seemed to fall halfway off the chair. 

Øystein caught Per. "No, you can't." He whispered. "You fucking can't, you selfish asshole." Øystein pressed his own hand against Per's throat and he could feel the blood pulsing out. 

"You - " Per opened his mouth, letting out that one single word, hoarse and raspy, before he choked and gagged on his own blood. His eyes closed, and then they opened a split second later. 

"Shhh. Shut up, don't talk." Øystein said, his panic growing and beginning to crush his heart with the weight. "Just stay awake. For me, Pelle." 

Jan was supposed to be home soon, Øystein suddenly realized. He had just went to visit his girlfriend for a few hours and promised to be home by sundown, which it nearly was. Øystein heard Per make a gurgling sound as his mouth filled with blood, coughing as he struggled to breath. 

The weight of the situation felt suffocating. Øystein felt a single tear slip from his left eye and trickle down his nose as he realixed how close Per was to death after years of running toward it like a child to his parent. Øystein moved his hand and pressed it against Per's chest, panicking for a moment when he couldn't find that precious pulse. 

But then Øystein felt a heart beat against his hand, and he could've cried. "Please don't die." He said, and the full reality of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks from above. "I love you, Pelle. I haven't said it - well, in a really fucking long time, but I love you." He said. 

Per stared, and his eyebrows twitched. He opened his mouth and then closed it when his head lolled. "Du är mitt liv." He mumbled. 

"Okay." Øystein wasn't sure what Per had just said, but he just focused on each slurred beat of Per's heart. "Okay. Just a few minutes, Lille kanin." He suddenly felt like the world was crashing down around him. 

The idea of living a life without Per was terrifying, and Øystein almost started crying again as he pressed a kiss to Per's hair and wondered if this was their last few moments together. 

And then there came the sound of the door unlocking and opening downstairs, followed by heavy footsteps. It was a sound that Øystein had heard several times before, but hed never been so glad to hear it more than at that moment, with Per dying in his arms. 

"Hey, guys!" Jan yelled from downstairs. "Why is the ladder up?" He asked. 

Øystein swallowed back his tears. "Call 113!" He yelled at the top of his lungs. 


	2. Chapter 2

An eternity could've passed, and it didn't matter. Øystein thought about how everything passed in a blur of milliseconds, and yet, it had been twenty-four hours since everything had happened, since Jan had called 113 and then ran upstairs to see two blood stained men, since the sirens had echoed through the air. 

Now, Øystein sat in the stiff hospital chair, wearing a fresh outfit and waiting for a nurse to come and tell him that he could visit Per. 

Surgery had been preformed to stitch up Per's cuts and transfer blood into his system after having lost so much. Nobody else had been allowed to visit him besides his parents and younger brother, leaving Øystein, Jan and Jørn to stifle their millions of questions and patiently wait to be called. 

Jørn, ever the protective friend, had attempted to find out what had happened immediately afterwards, but Jan had silenced his questions and held him off like an owner snd his attack dog, for which Øystein was immensely thankful, because he didn't thank he could've handled them. 

But now, a full day after Per had lay there, ready to accept death, Øystein was waiting in a chair to see him again. Per's mother had gone home with Anders and his father was staying temporarily at a nearby hotel, leaving Øystein alone when he finally was allowed to go in there. 

Jan and Jørn had gone in there, first, probably because they were significantly calmer and Øystein felt like he was about to start crying again. He just wished that the whole argument hadn't taken place and, if it had, that he hadn't left and just doomed Per to his own dark thoughts. 

An older woman appeared, her shoes soundless on the linoleum. "Øystein Aarseth? Du kan se vennen din nå." She said in a polite voice, glancing down at her clipboard. 

"Takk." Øystein said, standing up and following her down the pitch white halfway, with its glaring lights and echoing voices. 

Øystein didn't know what he was about to see, but he wanted to touch Per's face and see his eyes again, to touch his hair and be reminded of his dark, brilliant lover, a term that he had barely gotten used to but would shout for the world to hear in exchange for Per's life. 

They walked down the hall for a few moments in silence, with only the faint chatter from the patients, their nurses and the doctors to offset the tense silence that seemed to seep into Øystein's bones. They finally reached a door, and the nurse knocked once before pushing it open. 

Nodding his thanks, Øystein stepped inside, and the door seemed so loud as it closed behind him and left him alone with what seemed like a skeleton in a hospital gown. 

Per had a bandage around his throat and one around each of his wrists. His eyes were open, and he was staring up at the ceiling. There was a burly man sitting on a chair to the side, reading a magazine, who barely looked up to acknowledge the presence that had come in. 

Slowly, Øystein walked in and sat down on the chair beside Per's bed. It was the first time that they'd seem each other, and Øystein was too relieved for any other emotion besides that. He felt awkward, however, stuck staring at the shell of a man who he'd held close and professed his love to. 

"Hey, Pelle." Øystein whispered. He reached out tentatively, and brushed Per's hand with his finger. Per felt cold. "I - I missed you." He said, and his eyes burned with the threat of tears. 

Øystein forcefully brushed the tears away. "I really fucking missed you, asshole." 

With the faintest of smiles, Per lifted his shoulders in a weak shrug. 

Unsure of what else to say, and not knowing if there was anything else to whisper in that cold room, Øystein looked up at the minder, but they seemed to be invisible, in a room where nothing mattered and nobody existed. He reached out and quickly brushed Per's hair from his eyes. 

"I - miss - _missed_ you." Per's voice sounded like gravel being ran over by tires, so unfamiliar and different, but it was Per and he was alive and that was all that mattered at that moment. 

Øystein smiled and squeezed Per's hand. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to end the pain. Why do they always hurt me? I don't know. I don't know.


End file.
